Julian Winslow looked at her pretty face, now tinted with a faint pink blush from embarrassment. Something tugged at his heart, leaving it soft and tender. "Yes, we were peeking at each other."
His words, though spoken lightly, seemed to carry a hint of pampering. Unable to resist, Shalma Hughes shifted her evasive gaze back toward him. To her surprise, the man who had just said those words had already buried himself back in his dry and tedious medical literature.
She thought that must have been her illusion just now. It had to be the aftereffects of hitting the back of her head. But even though it was the weekend, there was no need for him to stay here all the time! It was so inconvenient for her.
Speak of the devil. A silent flow cascaded between her legs, bringing a warmth she was all too familiar with every time she shifted her body.
"No way! It can't be this tragic!" she thought to herself. "For it to come at a time like this..."
